An Eye For An Eye
by iamconcussed
Summary: Draco feels betrayed by Harry and takes matters into his own hands by returning the favor: sleeping with Harry's girlfriend. Unfortunately, Draco finds himself caring for the redhead more than he planned.
1. Chapter 1

How could this happen? When he hired that private detective, he was sure the man would find his fiancée with her tongue in another man's mouth, but not this man. This was much worse than anything he could have imagined. He would feel less betrayed if he found out it was his own father she was sleeping with.

"Stupid, cocky bastard. So-called savior of the world," Draco spat, flipping through the photographs that were delivered to his flat in London that evening. "Blaise, come look at this one. I should have the arsehole killed!" He threw the picture onto the table between the men, and picked up his glass of scotch. "Can you believe him? I invite him into my home for dinners, birthdays, holidays and he returns the favor by sleeping with Astoria! To think I was thanking him for keeping an eye on her whenever I was away on work."

Blaise studied the picture in his hands. It was through a window, that much Blaise could tell. He tried to ignore the two naked figures and focus on where they were, though the darkness made it difficult. He was quite interested in how they had been keeping this secret for so long. "Mate," Blaise said carefully, as he recognized a painting on the far wall behind Astoria's writhing body. He grew up seeing that painting almost daily in the summer. "Did you notice where this is?"

Draco picked his head up from his hands. "No. Was it my office? Did it happen to be under my desk while I made money for her to spend?"

Blaise shifted uncomfortable in his seat and set the photograph back down. It made sense that they would choose somewhere that Draco tended to avoid. It was a place where, if he had to go, he would most likely bring one of the two for company. "It's in the Manor. The painting in the background, it's in the East wing master bedroom."

The speed at which Draco snatched the picture from the table was incredible. "In my own fucking house? In my fucking bedroom?" he yelled. He was so mixed with anger and pain that he began to resemble a madman.

"Draco, just take a deep breath. You need to calm down or you'll do something rash," Blaise explained, pulling the photo from Draco's hands. "I'll get you some potion, it'll sober you up a bit. We can go over to mine and watch that movie you were talking about the other day." He looked at Draco, who was seated with his eyes closed and his head bowed. Blaise figured he didn't look like he was getting up anytime soon. "It'll be fine. You don't have to see either of them for at least a week. She's still in Pairs with her mother, and he's in the States on business. You can put your whole 'eye for an eye' plan on pause." He studied his still friend and frowned. "I'll be right back."

Draco stood quickly and pulled a sobering potion from his top drawer. He downed it and fixed himself up with a few spells before Apparating on the spot.

"Oh, bloody hell," Blaise groaned when the Apparation pop echoed through the halls of the flat.

This was the place, Draco thought. He had only been there three or four times before, but it was hard for him to forget things. It was a Muggle building, so he had no problem getting past the front door with a simple spell. It would be surprising for many to learn that one of the biggest Quidditch stars in the league lived in a Muggle building, but considering whom it was, he supposed it wasn't so surprising after all.

Taking a glance at his reflection in the lift's door, he made his way up the stairs to the fourth floor. He didn't trust Muggle lifts. He imagined he would have taken the stairs to the seventh floor if he had to.

He stopped in front of the last door on the right. Number 46. "An eye for an eye," he whispered to himself before knocking on the door.

"Just a second," a voice called from within. Only a moment later the door opened, a woman on the other side.

She wasn't as short as he remembered her. He could tell by her attire, an old Chuddly Cannon's shirt and a pair of cotton shorts, that she hadn't planned on any visitors. Her long red hair was pulled up into a bun on the top of her head, stray hairs sticking out on all sides. She looked both embarrassed and annoyed. "Harry's not here," she informed him with a sigh. "He's in America until next Sunday."

"I wasn't looking for him," Draco responded. He began to step forward, encouraging her to invite him in. Her expression said that she was most likely going to turn him away.

"What is it then, Draco?" she asked, leaning against the door and cocking her hip.

"I leant Harry a book a couple weeks ago and I was wondering if I could have a look round here for it," Draco explained, again trying to step into the flat. This time she allowed him to come in.

"I don't know why it would be here. This is not where he comes to get reading done. It's probably at his office," she said, closing the door behind him. She passed him and took a seat on the couch. "I suppose you can take a look around. When he does work here, it's in the spare. Just through there," she told him, pointing to the right of her and then picking up a wine glass from the table.

Draco watched her for a moment longer before entering the spare room. It was a workroom of sorts. There was a desk against the wall, in front of a vast window that overlooked the street. The table was covered in papers and Quidditch plays that were reenacting themselves over and over on the parchment. On another wall was a massive group shot of the Holyhead Harpies. Ginny was standing front and center, a fierce look in her brown eyes. Draco, having always loved both Quidditch and women, was a frequent member of the Holyhead Harpies's audience. Ignoring anything that might skew his opinions, Ginny really was one of the strongest chasers in the league.

"Did you find it?" she called from the other room.

Right, Draco remembered, he was supposed to be looking for some book he leant Harry. "No," he answered, reentering the main room.

Ginny was lounging across the couch, her knees up and giving her something to prop her own book against. "I told you it wouldn't be here. He's barely here anymore, anyway," she added quietly.

He sat in a chair perpendicular to the couch. "Why is that? I thought you two were doing quite well." It normally wouldn't hurt him to say such blatant lies, but something about her soft appearance made him wish he didn't know anything about Harry's infidelity.

"He's had to travel a lot recently. The time he is here, he always seems to be spending with friends," she answered with a shrug.

When Harry said 'friends,' he meant Astoria. At least Harry wasn't engaged to Ginny. Then Draco noticed the large ring on her left hand. It was quite beautiful and antique looking. Harry would never have been able to pick out something so gorgeous. The man always chose the worst jewelry. "Is that an engagement ring?" he asked her, leaning forward to get a better look at it.

She inspected it herself before angling it out so he could see it. "Oh, no. As if Harry has the nerve to do that. It's my great-grandmother's ring. It was carved by goblins as a gift for aiding them during their quest for rights. There's a lion in the center with the family's motto around it. _Fortes fortuna iuvat_," she told him.

"Fortune favors the brave," he translated with a nod of approval. "It's quite beautiful. It's the Prewett's sign, correct?" He liked the way she nodded and looked at him, as if she was so impressed that he would be able to name her family. "Rich history in the Prewetts. They were one of the most well known pureblood families. You know, the Blacks and the Prewetts attempted to create an alliance once upon a time. But my great-great-grandfather promised at my great-grandmother's birth that she would marry into a family that was not the Prewetts. After that, the Prewett's refused to allow any of their daughters to marry a Black. The alliance fell apart then. The Prewetts have never been fans of the Malfoys. I suppose it seems fitting that your mother married into the Weasley family."

Ginny listened intently, setting her book back on the table. She sat up properly on the couch and thought for a second before speaking. "I always think that all these blood feuds have almost completely dissolved with the war ending, but my mum said when she was young she thought they would end with her generation, too. I think we all believe we're past things and then something happens to prove that we're not."

"I like to believe I could be the start of a new connotation behind my family's name," Draco admitted, with a small frown.

"Would you care for a glass of wine?" Ginny asked him, standing before he answered.

"Thank you," he nodded, watching her walk into the kitchen.

He stood and took a minute alone to observe the flat. It was Ginny's place, but it was also where Harry lived when he was home. He tended to be home more during the winter months. It figured as much, since Ginny was home during summer, the off-season for Quidditch. It was clear a girl had decorated the place, but not obnoxiously so. The walls were sea foam green with pictures and posters framed and hung all around. There was a magic fireplace that allowed her to be connected to the floo, but was probably more for looks than function. He took a moment to watch each photo along the mantle of the fire, laughing out loud when his eyes came across the photo third from the left. It was a photo of Ginny holding a baby; probably her eldest brother's judging by how young Ginny seemed to be. The baby looked perfectly content in Ginny's arms, but the moment she handed it to Ron, the baby began crying.

Ginny reentered the room with a glass of red wine in her hand. "That's Victoire, Bill and Fleur's girl. She's seven now, but I could never take that picture down," she laughed, handing him the glass. They both returned to the couch, sitting awkwardly in silence. "So what was this book you leant Harry?"

Draco took a moment to sip his wine, searching for a title or topic that was believable. "Oh, just something about the judicial system in America. He was hoping to have some man they caught charged with something, but he was a bit confused about how it worked," Draco explained with a shrug.

"Ah," Ginny nodded, sipping her wine. "How are things with Astoria? I just saw her the other day, but she didn't see me. Well, she ignored me. We sort of made eye contact and she ran away from me. But, anyway, how are you two?"

Draco liked how she rambled. She shook her head periodically, realizing she was getting off topic. "Actually, we are not good." There was always sympathy to be had when one was cheated on. "I found out she was sleeping with a friend of mine."

"Oh no," Ginny gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand. "That's awful!"

"Not completely unexpected," Draco pointed out, gulping down the rest of his wine. "She's not exactly a loving person."

"No one deserves to be cheated on," Ginny sighed, an attempt at an assuring smile on her face.

How right she was. She seemed almost as if she knew Harry was cheating on her. It was probably just a reminder to her that he could be cheating. "You guys had a pretty good season, right?" Draco asked, changing the subject.

Ginny looked lost in her own world for a second before making eye contact with him. "Oh, yeah, well everyone gets lucky sometimes."

"Lucky?" he repeated, his eyebrows now close to his hairline. "You guys are just bloody talented."

"Well, thank you," she nodded, but a sad smile crossed her face.

"What's the matter?" he asked, dipping his head forward to get a better look at her face. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, no," she waved her hand, regaining a sincere smile. "I was just thinking about something our owner was saying to the coach. I overheard them arguing while I was walking to get my broom wax from my kit. They, ah, they're thinking of trading me."

"What?" Draco exclaimed, genuinely surprised and concerned. The Harpies were his favorite team. Why would they trade their best player? "To what team?"

"The Quiberon Quafflepunchers."

"That awful French team?" Draco spat with disgust. "Are they morons? Why would they even think about that?"

Ginny just shrugged, downing the last of her wine. "I suppose what the owner of the team wants, the owner of the team gets. I piss him off a lot. I'm not a fan of going on publicity shoots and all that. He says I'm costing him money."

"That's rubbish," Draco announced. "You'd think even with you not doing all the publicity shite that you would bring in more money than the average player. I mean people go to the games to see you."

"Do you go to see me?" she asked, biting her lip to hide a smile.

He was playing the role better than he thought. "I enjoy the sport, but yes, I do like to watch you play more than the other team members."

Ginny's smile broke out this time, unable to keep it to herself any longer. "Thank you." She blushed and turned to look at the fire.

In a desperate attempt to change the subject, Draco looked around the room for anything to comment on. "What's that?" Draco asked, pointing to a box next to the sofa.

She turned and laughed, grabbing the box and bringing it around. "It's some stuff from Hogwarts. When I moved out of my mum and dad's I threw a bunch of the stuff in here to deal with later. I found it in the closet yesterday and thought I should finally organize it." Ginny began digging through it, pulling out different books, papers, and pieces of clothing. "I'm far to sober to be going through this stuff," she laughed.

"I'll help," Draco offered, pulling a flask from his jacket pocket. He split the contents between their glasses and held his up for a toast.

"Cheers," Ginny smiled, knocking the glasses together before downing the alcohol. "Oh, Merlin, what is that?" she asked, staring into her empty cup with distaste.

"A potent drink made by my elves. It's a Malfoy family recipe," Draco informed her, pulling a Gryffindor tie from the box. "Do you think I could pull this off?" He took his blazer off and tucked the tie under his collar, beginning to wrap the tie around itself. He looked up at her once he had finished. "Do I look like a Gryffindor?" he asked, laughing more than he normally would have.

Ginny covered her mouth with laughter. "I love it!"

"Go put this on," he suggested, pulling out one of her old uniforms. "I'm already dressed for classes." He motioned down at his white button up, Gryffindor tie, and black trousers.

She collected the uniform and went in to her bedroom, stumbling on her way. "I cannot believe this still fits me," she called into the other room, changing. After a few minutes she came out, covering her face in embarrassment. She had her white shirt tucked into her black skirt and had even donned her grey-knit thigh-highs.

Draco stood up to inspect her. "I think we look like quite the upstanding, Gryffindors." He took the extra tie with him, throwing it around her neck and beginning to tie it. His forehead rested against hers. He was still a bit too lost for his liking. He wanted to ignore his plan, and just kiss her without thinking.

"I didn't come here for some book," he told her, unable to stop himself from speaking.

"No?" was all she asked, angling her head up towards his more.

"I came to see you," he said, lowering his face and letting his nose touch hers. They stood in silence for a few moments, looking at each other.

"Kiss me," she said. Her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted slightly.

He granted her request swiftly, closing the small gap between them. He instantly forgot about Astoria, Harry, and his plan, and pushed the redhead back into her bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning after a night full of unbelievable realizations always felt like waking from a dream to Draco. In this new morning reality, Astoria kept to herself. Maybe she toyed with the idea of coming on to Harry, but she never acted on anything. In fact, when he tried to kiss her one night while Draco was away, she was shocked and angry with him. She no longer spent too much time alone with the black haired man. In this morning reality, Draco was lying in bed next to his faithful and loving fiancée. Her arm was thrown over him in a possessive manner and he could hear the elves making breakfast in the distance.

Unfortunately, she was far from faithful. For all he knew, she was cheating on him right then.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The room smelled of vanilla and violet, a very unfamiliar scent. He peeked his eyes open and surveyed the woman resting her head on his chest. It was the first time he had slept in the same bed as a woman who was not Astoria in, if he counted correctly, a little over five years.

He couldn't help but study the girl on him. Her skin was quite tanned in some places, presumably from training. Everything about her was so different from Astoria. Astoria's hair was white blonde, just like his own. Her skin was pale and free from any markings, unlike the redhead's ridiculous amount of freckles. Astoria was thin and slender, having never done any sort of physical activity in her life. He could feel the muscles underneath Ginny's skin as she slept. His hand skimmed over her bare back, causing her to sigh deeply.

Her breathing remained slow and steady, which he hoped meant she was still asleep. He needed time to come up with a plan of escape. Obviously rash behavior was not helping him any. How did one get out of a girl's flat after spending the night with her? Not that he slept with her. Well, he had slept in the bed with her, but as far as he remembered he never took his pants off, just his trousers. A quick look under the sheet that was covering them confirmed that he was still wearing his shorts. Ginny, however, was only wearing the grey Hogwarts thigh highs. That matched his memory from the night before. There had been a bit of snogging, some friendly almost-naked wrestling, a bit of his head between her legs, and then off to sleep.

He had to get out of her flat before she woke up. Glancing around the immediate area, he couldn't figure out where his wand was. He was going to escape the old fashioned way, using no magic, just slow movements. It looked like he might make it out from underneath her, when he heard a tapping on the window.

Her owl arrived, clutching a large stack of mail and looking flustered. It tapped again, this time louder and longer. Draco was ready to explain himself when Ginny's sleeping form raised an arm, releasing Draco from his restraints. The window opened in response to her motion and she curled back up, this time alone. He couldn't even do wandless magic when he was completely awake and she seemed to have perfected performing while asleep. Though amazed, he needed to leave as fast as he could, not wanting to test his luck.

He grabbed his trousers and shirt, quickly shoving his arms through his shirt and buttoning it up at top speed. His trousers, which had his wand in their pocket, gave him a bit more trouble, almost knocking him over before he grabbed her desk to help him balance. Buttoning them up, he looked at the pile of mail the bird set down before it retired to a perch in the corner by a window. On top was a large manila envelope from the Quiberon Quafflepunchers. Frowning, he looked at the sleeping girl once more before turning on the spot, returning to his flat.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Blaise yelled as soon as Draco appeared. "I looked for you everywhere. I spent an hour in the Auror travel office trying to see if you left the country!" His friend was irate and running his fingers through his dark hair. He collapsed with a loud groan onto the couch.

Draco's decision to Apparate into his flat's office had obviously been a bad one. "I just spent the night at a friend's." Draco headed over to his desk and rummaged through his mail.

"A friend's? What friend? _I_ spent the night looking for you. Surely you don't have any friends I don't know about," Blaise spat, his eyes red from lack of sleep.

Draco shrugged in response, opening a bill from the tailors. "You tell someone your Gringotts account number, and they still send you a bill."

"Draco!" Blaise yelled, throwing a pillow at his friend's head. "Where were you? Hopefully not sleeping with some random girl off the street."

"Not random, and I didn't sleep with her. We merely fooled around and what have you," Draco explained, sitting down at his desk chair. "I am an adult, and can make decisions for myself."

Blaise sighed as if he was comforted by some of the blond's ramblings. "As long as you didn't kill anyone, or have sex with Harry's girlfriend or something, then I suppose it's okay." Blaise rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms over his head. "I should go home and get some sleep, floo me later if you—Draco? Merlin, you did kill someone, didn't you?"

Draco held his head in his hands and took a breath before looking up. "I didn't kill anyone, Blaise."

His friend stood suddenly, crossing the room until he stood in front of the desk. "You slept with his girl? You had sex with Ginny Weasley?" He stopped suddenly, pondering something. "You shagged the best female chaser in the league…" Blaise looked as if he would compliment the rash actions before snapping out of it. "You did exactly what he did to you! An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, Draco."

"Oh calm down, he has been fucking my fiancée for months. He planned fake work trips, and she lied about seeing her mum just so they could fuck. All I did was go down on his girlfriend once, and now I'm the bad guy?" Draco asked rhetorically, shoving the rest of his mail into a waste bin for effect.

"What did you say to her this morning?" Blaise asked, backing up and sitting on the arm of the black leather sofa.

"I didn't. I left before she woke up," Draco answered, shoveling papers around on his desk so he didn't have to make eye contact.

"You're an arsehole! Can you put yourself in her shoes for a moment, you great big pillock? How could you be so stupid?" Blaise practically yelled once more.

Draco looked up at his friend and rolled his eyes. After a moment, he imagined being Ginny. She probably felt guiltier than ever, cheating on her supposed saint of a boyfriend. Most likely she was kicking herself for allowing someone as awful as Draco Malfoy to touch her. She probably called him a 'bloody death eater' in her head. "Bitch," Draco mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing, just that she should thank me. Now she will probably feel so guilty she'll break up with Harry. He deserves to suffer," Draco hissed, leaning back in his chair and attempting to fix his hair.

"So you acknowledge that you made her feel guilty?"

Draco sat up suddenly, raising an eyebrow at Blaise. "I didn't make her do anything," defending himself.

"Fine, then go see her and apologise for the part you played in the demolition of her relationship with Harry." Blaise smiled sweetly after his comment, reaching forward and taking Draco's itinerary for the day. "I'll give you the morning off because I am just that lovely of a friend."

"Okay, I will go see her. But just so we get this clear. Harry is solely responsible for the end of their relationship. The only role I played was having a fiancée who he wanted to fuck." Draco Apparated as soon as he finished speaking, angry about the guilt Blaise was making him feel.

Standing in front of her building made his heart begin to beat quickly. He was nervous for some odd reason he could not explain. Opening the bottom door he climbed the stairs once more. If he continued making appearances at her flat, maybe he could quit his gym membership.

He groaned and knocked on the door, instantly regretting that he listened to Blaise. Writing a card could have been just as effective and would not have involved making any appearances.

The door opened suddenly, a young blond girl staring up at him with questioning blue eyes.

"Who are you?" the blonde girl asked, surveying his disheveled appearance. "Are you asking for money? I don't have any, sorry. I would give you some if I did, though."

"I'm not a beggar, but thank you. Is Ginny here?" he asked the young girl, unamused with her assumption of his social status.

"She's in the loo. Why are you here?" she questioned, scrunching up her nose as she scrutinized him once more.

"To see Ginny," he answered flatly. He had never thought of himself as one who was good with children, but this interaction was proving he was worse than he believed. "Why are you here?"

"It's my monthly sleepover with Aunt Ginny. My mum just dropped me off," she told him, turning when she heard a door close behind her.

"Vee, what are you doing?" Ginny asked, coming up behind the blonde girl. "Draco," Ginny stated, meeting his eyes for a moment before looking down at the girl. "Victoire, can you go sit on the sofa for a moment?"

Victoire made a noise of disappointment and then stomped over to the sofa, out of Draco's eye line.

Draco sighed before beginning. "Look, I didn't mean to cause any problems, I—"

"Aunt Ginny!"

"Oh, you didn't want to cause any problems?" Ginny repeated sarcastically. "Is that why you came to my flat late at night with a bottle of Merlin knows what and then made a move on me?"

"Aunt Ginny!"

"I'm sorry? I didn't make a move on you! You asked me to kiss you," he reminded her, with a pointed look. There was no way she was going to pin this all on him.

"Right, because you didn't say you just came over to see me," she shook her head, crossing her arms. Suddenly a look of utter confusion passed over her features. "Why did you come over?"

"To see you," he answered truthfully.

"Aunt Ginny!" Victoire yelled a final time.

Ginny turned around, making her hair fly like a mane of fire. "What Victoire? I'm trying to have a conversation."

"I know, I just thought we should invite him in," the girl suggested with a shrug. "Grandmum says it's rude to not give a guest a cup of tea."

"He's not technically a guest, but Grandmum does say that," Ginny sighed. She turned back to Draco and pursed her lips before speaking. "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"

He almost said no, but something about her expression told him she was sure he would say no. Draco never liked to be expectable. "Yes, thank you, I would." He stepped in past her, ignoring the way her eyes widened.

"Oh, well, I guess I'll start the kettle," Ginny said politely, still a bit shocked. She closed the door behind him and headed into the kitchen.

Draco took a seat in the same chair he sat in the night before. "I suppose I should thank you for inviting me in. I'm Draco," he introduced himself and held out his hand.

"I'm Victoire." She took his hand and shook it once before letting go.

"I like that photo of you on the mantle," Draco commented, pointing to the picture he had laughed at the night before.

"Thanks," she nodded, glancing at it. "I still don't care much for Uncle Ron."

"I like you," Draco chuckled. He admired the blonde girl's honesty.

She smiled, her nose in the air. "Are you Aunt Ginny's new boyfriend?"

"Victoire!" Ginny reprimanded, her eyes wide and panicking as she came from the kitchen. "Draco is just Uncle Harry's friend." Ginny shoved a teacup in Draco's face and sat on the couch next to Victoire.

"It's just that I never see Harry anymore. I thought maybe you wanted a new boyfriend," Victoire reasoned and shrugged. "What are we doing today? Will I see Gwen?"

"I do have to go in today to see Coach, but I don't think Gwenog will be there," Ginny told the girl. They sat in silence for a moment, before Ginny gave Draco a pointed look.

"Oh, thank you for the tea," he smiled, taking a sip and trying to hide his distaste. He had been expecting simple black tea, but was surprised with Darjeeling.

"Not brewed to your liking?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. "Beggars can't be choosers, Draco."

He shook his head and took another sip. "It's perfect." And after a few sips, it really was good.

Draco watched as Victoire leaned close to Ginny and whispered something in her ear. Ginny's eyes flicked to Draco's for a second before she looked to the ground. It was clear the girl was whispering about him, but he only hoped it was positive and not something else he would be forced to apologise for. Ah, he had almost forgotten! He was just supposed to say an apology and leave. He didn't have to hang around drinking tea, however good the tea (and company) was. He opened his mouth to excuse himself, and finally say a sincere apology when Ginny turned to face him.

"Do you want to come with us to the pitch?" Ginny asked with a sigh. "Victoire wants to throw the quaffle around and I have to talk to the coach for a bit. I have some papers to sign." Her eyes were glossy and her bottom lip was quivering just the slightest bit.

"I got a broom two months ago," Victoire told him with big eyes, getting up to retrieve the broom. She picked up a Pegasus 200 from the wall and smiled, facing Draco.

"Wow, a Pegasus," Draco gasped, somewhat for show and somewhat honestly. "Those are top of the line!"

Victoire spun in a circle and set her broom back against the wall, admiring it herself. She seemed enthralled with the broom. "I'm going to be a professional Quidditch player when I'm older," she stated, not bothering to turn and look away from the broom.

"The Harpies are sponsored by Pegasus," Ginny explained quietly, leaning over to Draco. "We go through brooms like crazy. It's the one I used for part of last season."

Draco stared at her lips as she whispered, her eyes trained on Victoire. He exhaled slowly before looking up at her eyes. "Ginny, I'm sorry about last night," Draco began, his voice a bit shaky.

Ginny held up her hand, a small smile on her lips. "Vee, can you go put on your boots? They're in my room," Ginny told her niece. She watched the blonde girl leave and waited before speaking again. "You can make it up to me. Victoire thinks she fancies you. Spend the day with her and make her feel special; she's been having a hard time."

Draco thought about it for a second before nodding. "Sure."


End file.
